USUK: Crawling Back To You
by Here I am Rambling Again
Summary: Based off song Crawling Back To You. Rated T to be safe, language and implications. USUK oneshot.


**bCrawling Back To You: USUK/b**

_iPG13 for some language and…implications./i _

Arthur groaned and flopped back onto his couch, his muscles still sore from the brutal battles only weeks before. Tracing a scar along his arm, he remembered that day in the rain, the day Alfred had left, claiming independence. He looked sadly at the broken frame on his mantle, a young Alfred grinning cheerily through the shattered glass. How he missed that little boy, the one that never ceased to make him smile.

He shook his head to clear his thought. i_No_,/i he scolded himself. i_He left you. He deserves your hate, and obscenely high taxesi. _But, as much as Arthur tried, he just couldn't hold a grudge against him. He couldn't bring himself to truly hate him.

A knock brought him out of his mulling, and he grudgingly opened the door.

"Bloody hell, what the fuck are you doing here, git?"

"Hi, Iggy." Alfred offered a sad smile, one that promptly managed to melt Arthur's heart, not that he'd ever show that.

Alfred's outward appearance hadn't changed much, although he was sporting a new bomber jacket adorned with airplanes and his flag. _Fifty stars…_ Arthur realized. Alfred had grown up so fast, taking all the power from him, leaving him to cope with his losses alone. He was taller than Arthur remembered, and still sporting that same silly cowlick.

"What do you want?" Arthur spat, glaring angrily up at his former colony.

"I…I just wanted to say I'm sorry." Alfred ran a hand through his hair, still smiling sadly.

"It's a little late for that now, isn't it?" He sneered, inwardly shocked at the tone he was taking. "Are you out of money? Or weapons? You've had to have come for a reason, right?"

Alfred sighed, "No, I'm doing okay. I just… can't forget you."

"B-bloody hell…?"

"America is strong. Everything I ever wanted for my country times ten. But Alfred… he's doing just what you said he would." A tear streaked its way down from a bright blue eye. "I close my eyes at night, expecting to see some pretty girl, but all I can see is your face, and remember what you said."

"No matter, what you think, you'll come crawling back me," Arthur remembered, and a pang of guilt stung him.

Alfred was really crying now, and dropped to his knees. "I thought I was stronger than this, but, I remember how I just left you in the rain all beat up and every time I see your face I just…just…" He began tugging at his hair, reduced to a pathetic quivering heap.

Arthur blinked back his own tears, and crumpled down next to the American. He opened his mouth to saw something, but Alfred cut him off, "I-if you could find a way to forgive me… wish I could take everything I did back…"

The Briton was still at a loss for words, the emotions raging inside of him saying so much more than he ever could. Alfred looked up when he heard Arthur begin to cry, his blue eyes searching for whatever feeling his once-brother was trying to convey.

"I…I f-forgive y-you…" Arthur finally managed to choke out, looking back up into sapphire orbs. Alfred's breath caught in his throat, a new set of tears making its way down his cheeks. He tackled Arthur, and sobbed into his chest, thanking him profusely. Arthur, although shocked, still managed to wrap his arms around the American, smiling for the first time in weeks. They sat like that for hours, the beautiful sunset being completely ignored.

Somewhere along the way they had both stopped crying, and merely huddled together, happy in each other's warmth. Alfred let out a breath and gazed up at Arthur, a silent conversation passing between them. A second longer they looked, and then their lips met. Softly at first, then they became hungrier, more passionate. When they broke for air, another glance passed between them, and off they raced up the stairs, much to the on-lookers dismay.

b**~~Extended Ending~~/b**

Yeah, that's right; I've standing here the whole time, my inner fangirl exploding a million times over. Maybe this job doesn't suck to badly. Sure, bringing tasteless tea and scones to a rather grumpy Brit wasn't my definition of fun, but… with Alfred back it might not suck to badly. I walked upstairs, picking up discarded clothing as I went, and decided, i_Emily Reader's Job Doesn't Suck/i. _I grinned as I stopped outside Arthur's door, listening to the commotion inside.

Correction, i_Emily Reader's Job is Far Better Than Samantha Noble's and Will Make Haruka Vale Extremely Jealous. _ /i

There, I win.


End file.
